


Now Is Time For Later

by Musyc



Category: Belgariad/Malloreon Series - David & Leigh Eddings
Genre: F/M, Love, Married Couple, Missing Scene, Wedding Fluff, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 19:24:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5468159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Musyc/pseuds/Musyc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Small glimpses, a few moments, surrounding the wedding of Durnik and Polgara.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Now Is Time For Later

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TanyaReed](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TanyaReed/gifts).



The crystal wren's delicate song still seemed to trill in the room. The scent of the steel-hearted rose hung in the air. Polgara's laughter slowly faded to the occasional throaty chuckle.

Durnik watched his new bride as she settled into a chair. "You're not really angry, are you?" he asked, taking a seat next to her.

Polgara smiled. The white lock in her dark hair seemed to glimmer as bright as her eyes. She laid her hand on his arm and squeezed gently. "No," she said. "I suppose I could be. The two of you hid this from me for so long."

Durnik worried at his lower lip and shifted to face Polgara. He took her hand between both of his, thumbs rubbing across her palm. "You know that upsetting you was never the intent of it. Well, maybe Belgarath thought it might be funny in his own peculiar way, but all I meant was to give you a surprise. A wedding gift, if you will."

Polgara's smile deepened. She curled her fingers to hold Durnik's hand. "And it was a wonderful gift." She hesitated for a moment, her gaze seeming to turn inward, as if she was uncertain of her words and was testing them out in her mind before speaking them. Then her grip on Durnik's hand tightened and she lifted her head to meet his eyes. "My love."

Durnik's heart fluttered against his ribs. Those two words pounded in his ears like the ring of his hammer on his anvil. He pushed out of his chair without letting go of her hand, then went to one knee beside her. He leaned in close, his forehead resting against her cheek. "My love," he echoed. "Polgara. I love you. I have since the first day I saw you."

Polgara leaned her head against his. Slowly, she turned to touch her lips to his temple. "I know," she whispered. "I can't believe that I missed it all those years."

"It doesn't matter," he said. "None of that matters. We have all the time in the world to concentrate on the future, now."

He felt her lips move in a smile. Before he could stop himself, he tipped his head to catch her mouth with his. He'd been too nervous to kiss her properly at their wedding, in front of so many guests, but there in private, with no witnesses but the glass bird on its perch, he found the courage to give her the kiss he'd wanted to give her for so long. He released her hands and slid his fingers into the heavy mass of her dark hair. Polgara gave a tiny gasp, then returned his kiss with fervor, her mouth fitting against his as if they had been made for each other. 

Considering all they had been through, and the EVENTs and manipulations of the Necessities, he supposed that Polgara and he truly had been meant, and made, for each other.

Polgara made a pleased little moan and it drove all thought of prophecies and fates out of his head. That was a sound he wanted to hear her making again. But not right that moment. Not then. It wasn't right.

He reluctantly forced himself to break their kiss and lean back. Breathing rough, he put both hands on Polgara's shoulders. "We still have another wedding to attend," he said, his voice ragged and hoarse. "Any more of this needs to wait."

Polgara set her hands on his, exhaling sharply. "You're right," she said. Durnik felt a small little thrill of pleasure that her voice sounded just as uneven as his. Then she opened her brilliant eyes and she smiled at him. "One more wedding," she said. "And then a wedding night. Our wedding night. My love."

That little thrill of pleasure twisted to a growl of anticipation in the back of his mind. "Later."

* * *

He'd shared one dance with Polgara at the ball after Garion and Ce'Nedra's wedding, then gratefully taken a seat to watch the guests swirl and spin to the music. His dancing was serviceable, but not graceful, and he was happy to sit before he tripped over someone.

Polgara danced with Garion, then with Belgarath, then she returned to Durnik's side. He took her hand and smiled at her, trying not to wince as the assembled guests cheered when Garion and Ce'Nedra left the hall. The raucous laughter and loud jests that followed them were traditional, and he'd expected nothing less, especially from Barak and Silk, but deep inside his Sendarian heart, Durnik found it a bit disrespectful.

Polgara squeezed his hand as if she'd sensed his thoughts. "We're not the center of attention," she murmured to him. "We'll be able to slip away without so much--"

"Teasing?" 

"It's meant well."

"Perhaps," Durnik said. "But it's--" He shook his head. "Even if everyone knows what's next, I don't want everyone to acknowledge that they know. If that makes sense."

Polgara chuckled. "It does, my love. And fortunately, we have an advantage that Garion and Ce'Nedra couldn't use. A little distraction, a little inattention."

She lifted her free hand and moved her fingers in a small flicking gesture. A Rivan woman who had been walking toward them suddenly knotted her brows and turned away, patting the sides of her gown as if looking for something. No one else seemed able to see them. Anyone who turned their direction looked past them as if their chairs were empty.

Polgara rose and gently tugged Durnik up from his chair. "Durnik," she said with a small, private smile. "I believe 'later' has arrived."

His eyes widened and that growl of anticipation started again in the far corners of his mind. "Yes," he said. "I do believe you're right."

Polgara tucked her arm through his and they left the hall with alacrity. Durnik glanced back to be sure no one would cheer them out. No one was looking their way.

Except one. On the far side of the hall, Belgarath hoisted a tankard of ale in salute. Even at that distance, Durnik could see him wink. Blushing, Durnik turned away and led Polgara swiftly out of sight.

* * *

Polgara lay curled on her side, her long hair in a sprawl across the pillows. Her cheeks were flushed with exertion and every so often a tiny shudder ran through her body. Above the embroidered hem of the sheet half-covering her, a few beads of sweat dotted her shoulders.

Propped on one elbow beside her, Durnik took one of her dark locks and rubbed it between his fingers. He'd seen her in battle and he'd seen her in triumph, but he'd never seen her disheveled like this. He felt a small twinge of pride and a much bigger one of awe. This pure exhaustion, this utterly boneless relaxation he saw in her - he'd done it. He'd brought her to this point. 

He still couldn't entirely believe this was real. It seemed more likely that he'd be able to reach out his hand and lay it on the Aldur's Orb than that he could stretch a few inches and brush Polgara's bared back. Just to convince himself, one final time, that all of this was real, he leaned over and kissed the curve of Polgara's shoulder.

She stirred. Durnik drew back, holding his breath. With an unintelligible murmur, Polgara turned over. Her eyes never opened as she snuggled closer to Durnik, her arm slipping over his waist. He settled into the pillows with Polgara in his arms, the top of her head fitting just under his chin. He lay there for a moment, feeling the warmth of her body against his, the slow movement of her breathing. He closed his eyes and took a moment to thank Belar, Aldur, UL, even the universe herself. He was grateful for Polgara's presence in his embrace, for that perfect moment right then. The woman he loved, his bride, his wife. 

They had the entire night to spend together, and a thousand nights more. Really, he thought, if his lifespan extended as hers had, they had a thousand years of nights ahead of them. The future was theirs. Everything they'd put off for later, they could have now.

He stroked Polgara's hair and entwined his hand with hers over his heart. "Pol," he whispered, trying not to wake her. "I love you."

In her sleep, she smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> Dear TanyaReed,  
> you asked for something affectionate and loving between these two, with a focus on their wedding night if at all possible. I hope I've managed to give you something that fills that Yuletide wish. :)


End file.
